


you know just what I want

by howdoyousleep



Series: Daddy Steve Rogers/Baby Bucky Barnes [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Breathplay, Clothed Sex, Clothing Kink, Couch Sex, Creampie, Daddy Kink, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Doggy Style, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Rimming, Subspace, Tie Kink, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22325026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdoyousleep/pseuds/howdoyousleep
Summary: “Hi, Daddy,” Bucky starts, voice small, doesn’t miss the way Steve’s heavy sigh is full of relief, “How was work?” His question is received with a grimace of sorts, Steve making a face, and he begins to walk forward, tie curling and hanging around his neck, shoes still on. Bucky feels like prey.“Awful, baby—it was awful.”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Daddy Steve Rogers/Baby Bucky Barnes [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1520792
Comments: 57
Kudos: 612





	you know just what I want

**Author's Note:**

> YOOOO this was a Tumblr request that I (SHOCKER) took tf off with, hahaha.  
> This was the request: “Oooh for the ask meme, maybe 14 (sex with clothes half on/panties still on) and 15 (the pleasant misuse of ties)? Maybe Steve gets home from work and he's in a suit and tie, and Bucky's just in his pajamas so Steve has him strip and uses his tie to bind his wrists and fucks him while he's still got his suit on? Or uses his tie as a gag or ties it around Bucky's neck, whatever you want ~*”  
> This is STEAMY and it got way deeper than I intended but I had so much fun. I put it in Tumblr requests but this is definitely a part of my Daddy Steve/Young Bucky series!  
> Un-beta'd! Enjoy!

Bucky was well into the umpteenth episode of the show he had started the night before when he heard the front door open from his spot curled up on the sofa. He checked his phone—4:30 PM.

_Huh._

Immediate slow and heavy footsteps had Bucky relaxing back into the pillow his head had been resting on, knowing the steady footsteps he was hearing belonged to Steve. He heard Steve’s keys hit the kitchen counter, Bucky knowing his wallet would rest with it as well although he couldn’t hear that land on the countertop. Bucky paid very little mind to Steve’s presence, knowing he would stop by to greet Bucky and drop a kiss on his forehead before going to shower.

He could hear and sense Steve’s presence before he sees him, knowing he’s taking the two steps down into the living room, and Bucky preens when he hears Steve sigh, rumble out a seemingly misplaced, “ _Sugar…”_ It sounds like a relief, like an omen, almost like a tease, like Steve can breathe easier after seeing Bucky. It also sounds like it belongs in the metaphorical bedroom, deep and a little breathy and gruff, like they’d been necking and grabby for ten, fifteen minutes now. It makes Bucky tilt his head up, propping it raised with his hand, makes him crane his neck to look up at the older man.

He’s met with a sight that leaves him breathless damn near every day, whether it be watching Steve leave in the morning or being in the apartment when he arrives home—it’s Steve in his work clothes.

The older man has always had an incredible sense of fashion, dressing with a sharp casual comfortability, turning heads when he walks into any room, commanding attention. It has been something that has made Bucky all achy inside since he first set eyes on Steve in that bar. Even when he is wearing sweats at home, lounging on the couch, he still makes things look purposeful and effortless. It’s entirely unfair but Bucky reaps the benefits from it daily so he guesses he had no right to be bitter.

But there is just _something_ about seeing Steve in his work clothes, dressing with authority, every inch of fabric pressed tight against skin and muscle that only Bucky gets to see. Outfits that he knows others find intimidating and attractive, can only imagine what Steve looks like moving around his office with purpose in them. It makes Bucky feel like he’s high or in heat or both, makes him want to giggle and bat his eyelashes, spread his legs for Daddy.

In this moment his eyelids immediately feel heavy, he feels himself stir in his core and his shorts, fighting the urge to just drop to his knees at Steve’s feet. There’s a different kind of energy surrounding Steve, a darker look on his face. He looks a little tired and Bucky honestly doesn’t know how to proceed, what to say, so he waits for Steve to say something or to make a move, trying to mirror the older man’s mood and expressions. Steve’s face still seems pleasant, like he is so happy to see Bucky, but there is an underlying coolness there as he reaches for the tie around his neck.

“Hey, Buck,” he murmurs as he works, Bucky’s eyes drawn to the movement immediately, Steve’s capable fingers pulling and rolling fabric until the navy-blue tie is loose and open around the collar of his shirt. Bucky’s mouth feels like it simultaneously goes dry and waters over. Steve’s hands look so big as he confidently moves them, works them, Bucky suddenly wanting those fingers in his mouth or a palm cracking across his ass cheek. He grows a little breathless at his wants and the speed of them, always overcome with desire and impatience when it comes to Steve.

“ _Hi, Daddy_ ,” Bucky starts, voice small, doesn’t miss the way Steve’s heavy sigh is full of relief, “How was work?” His question is received with a grimace of sorts, Steve making a face, and he begins to walk forward, tie curling and hanging around his neck, shoes still on. Bucky feels like prey.

“Awful, baby—it was awful.”

Bucky frowns, goes to somewhat uselessly apologize but then Steve is still moving when Bucky thought he would stop, confused as he sits up slowly on alert. His eyes distractedly flit up to the now-gaping collar of Steve’s crisp white dress shirt ( _all that skin, wants to bite that pec)_ but also can’t fight against the urge to glance down at his crotch, almost sitting at eye-level. Bucky doesn’t have long to stare and pine before Steve’s wide hand is running through his hair, coming to stand between Bucky’s spread thighs as much as he can.

The movement tilts his head back to gaze up at the older man, his eyelids even more heavy than they were just moments before, slipping into a sweet easy mindset that he hasn’t had in a while. He sees Steve smile softly, eyes alight, cheeks a tad rosy. He’s aroused or getting there, and it makes Bucky swallow down a whine. His fingers dig into the edge of the couch on either side of his thighs in the brief anticipation that floods his being before Steve is bending at the waist to kiss Bucky.

If that’s what you can call it.

Because Bucky gets one solid purse of the lips in and then Steve is licking into his mouth, tongue talented and lips heavenly, working Bucky over, hands cupping his face and moving him where Steve wants him. Bucky can’t do anything but whimper and sit there and take it, bask in it, soak in the easiness in Steve’s dominating movements and actions. Steve takes what he wants, sucks Bucky’s tongue into his mouth, nips on his bottom lip, before pulling away so suddenly it leaves Bucky gasping and grappling at Steve’s wrists.

Steve gives him one good pat on the cheek, helps clear the haze a little bit, and then speaks as he pulls his hands away.

“There wasn’t one thing that went right today. Simple things were made difficult because people weren’t listening properly, Tony didn’t come into the office again. The receptionist called in sick. People were rude and unkind. It was a bad day, Buck but you know what I kept thinkin’?” Steve’s looking down at him as he speaks, a thumb coming up to brush his slick bottom lip as he ends with a question, a question he expects Bucky to answer. All he manages to breathe out is a soft, “What?” and then Steve is pulling him up off the couch slowly, hands under his armpits, making him stand directly in front of his standing form.

“I kept thinking that there is no way I can be upset,” Steve starts, voice hot and low as he skims both of his wide palms under and up Bucky’s shirt, fingers skimming his stomach and torso and chest, once up and once down, making Bucky _gasp_ as Steve finishes his thought, “When I’ve got such a sweet little thing waiting for me at home.”

Bucky can’t help it, whimpers, “ _Oh,”_ and sways there uselessly as Steve begins to pull at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up his body and over his head, Bucky barely managing to raise his arms to help. He’s been lounging on the couch all day, in cozy clothes and under a blanket, so the chilly apartment air bites at his skin a little, that and Steve’s soft touches making him breakout into waves of goosebumps. He shivers, let’s his eyes close a little, wills himself to focus. Although he’s struggling to somewhat keep up with Steve’s words and actions, it is quite apparent that Steve needs him and wants him and that mindset, that servitude mindset, makes him start to warm all over.

Steve purrs, tilts Bucky’s chin up to kiss him sweetly a few times, movements syrupy and slow and fuzzy around the edges, and then Steve’s fingers are on the waistband of his shorts as he speaks again.

“Kept thinkin’ about how, even when I interact with rude people or people who don’t appreciate me, I’ve got such a sweet boy in my corner, a phone call away, to come home to every night,” Steve murmurs, sounding almost like a lullaby to Bucky’s ear, and then Steve’s hands are pushing at Bucky’s shorts, the fabric pooling around his ankles. Bucky feels himself stepping out of them naturally, eyes unable to tear away from looking up at Steve’s ocean ones as he does so, hypnotized by the entire situation so suddenly playing out.

“ _Mmm,_ fuck, just kept reminding myself that my sweet Buck’ll do almost anything to make sure his Daddy feels taken care of, feels appreciated when other don’t show him that.” And then Steve’s wide hands are running down his naked back in a hot slow sweep of a movement, grabbing at two handfuls of Bucky’s ass, pulling him in tight against Steve’s still-clothed body and—

“ _Oh fuck,_ ” is all Bucky can choke out, hands pressed between his body and Steve’s chest, unable to inhale and exhale properly at the feel of Steve’s meaty fingers digging into and spreading his cheeks, kneading at them harshly. Bucky whines, stands up a little on his tiptoes, presses his face into the crook of Steve’s neck. The movement of Steve’s hands press Bucky’s entire form, _his swelling cock,_ into the older man’s body, presses and rolls him in a little, makes him whimper out a small and confused, “ _Daddy?”_

His question goes ignored. Steve squeezes at his ass a few more times, skims one hand up his side to grip at it as he groans so softly into Bucky’s temple, such a _pleased_ and _content_ purr, and Bucky purses his lips to suckle on the side of his neck a little. When Steve lets go of his ass, it’s his turn to whine again at the loss, whimpering as he is pushed and turned around. Just as his front was pressed tight against Steve’s form, his backside is now pushed in the same manner, the older man feeling immense behind him.

When Steve’s hands come to rest and grip at Bucky’s hips, a soft open-mouthed kiss pressed onto the back of his neck, Steve purrs, “I thought about how my sugar sweet boy has been sitting at home all day, just a little angel, waitin’ for Daddy to get home.” _Jesus,_ that praise is nice, makes him squirm on his feet a little, tilt his head to the side to show Daddy his neck. Steve’s hands start to move then, gentle yet heavy touches, warm slides of skin up his chest from his hips, down again and gliding over the front of his thighs.

His cock jumps at the touch and lack of attention, _so close_ , but Steve ignores it, pulls Bucky in tight with an arm curling around his chest, other hand cupping his chin, pulling his head back so he can whisper directly into Bucky’s ear, “Thought about how you’d be the perfect little toy to help relieve some’a this stress.” 

_Fuck._

Bucky doesn’t want anything more, need and desperation _flooding_ his system with a gasp, Steve’s teeth tearing at his earlobe as he hears himself whimper, “ _Oh,_ Daddy please, want that, wanna make you feel better, want—” his words are cut off abruptly by Steve’s fingers, plunging them in between his lips, deep into his mouth. Bucky whines as Steve presses said thick fingers down onto his tongue, makes his mouth flood with spit, makes him naturally suck on them, attempt to hollow out his cheeks. Steve coos at the feel, kisses the side of Bucky’s face before whispering again, “ _Ohh_ , honey that’s sweet’a you but Daddy doesn’t need permission. Not when you’re a little slut and give me what I want all the time. Not when I know how much you liked to be used for my own pleasure,” he stops to kiss Bucky’s cheek again, “But that’s sweet’a you, baby.”

If Steve weren’t holding Bucky up, he surely would have melted into the floor beneath his feet. At Steve’s words he finds his eyes rolling back into his head, a loud moan muffled by Steve’s fingers trying to escape his mouth. That makes another wave of warmth curl at the back of his neck, spread down his back and up his head, reminds him of his purpose. The questions he had earlier dissipate and float away, the only question remaining being why he had questions in the first place. He didn’t need questions when he was with Steve, the trust they had spent so long building up taking over in the ultimate comfort.

Bucky must have a physical reaction to his own thoughts and Steve’s words because Steve hums, says his name, kisses his temple, and pulls away, retracts his fingers. Steve’s palms sweep down his biceps, his arms, from behind and he grasps his wrists into one wide hand, a rustle of a noise, and then Steve is working something around his wrists, is he—?

 _“Ohh_ ,” is all Bucky can whimper out, realization _flooding_ his system as he feels the exact tie that Steve was just undoing and letting hang around his neck wrap expertly around his wrists, binding them together. Steve’s grip is tight, authoritative, not to be pushed, and within thirty seconds Bucky is naked and wanting with his arms held behind his back by his wrists bound by _Daddy’s tie._

Steve’s hands are still running across his body, overwhelming him in the best way possible, some light some harder, his arms, his back, his ass, his cheek. He let’s Bucky fall into this role a little longer, guides him there, kisses his cheek before turning Bucky around to face him. Bucky may be a little floaty, but he can make Steve’s face out well, see the desire in his eyes, a little chaotic and all pupil. His chest heaves a little more with his breaths, his cheeks rosier than before. He’s stunning, makes Bucky breathe out a reverent, “ _Daddy._ ”

“Yeah, baby you hush now. Let Daddy have you.”

Bucky’s on his knees in two seconds, unsure if he fell there or if Steve pushed him there, but either way it’s exactly where he wants to be. He looks up to Steve for guidance and just to look up his form, dressed so sharply, makes Bucky want to bend over and lick his shoes, and Steve’s fingers go for his zip. Bucky’s mouth parts in anticipation, reels himself in from full on opening his mouth in full but then Steve mumbles, “Want that mouth for a little bit, sugar, gonna open wide for me?” as he pulls his erection and balls through the unzipped gape in his pants. _Steve isn’t wearing underwear._

Bucky doesn’t mean to, but he finds himself spreading his legs a little, wiggling on the floor, his own cock and balls all achy and throbbing as he watches Steve stroke himself above him. He’s good, a good boy, opens his mouth wide, is reminded that his wrists are tied behind his back when he goes to rest his hands on Steve’s thighs and can’t, whines a little.

“ _Goddamnit_ , Bucky you’re so perfect, such a good boy, _fuck_ ,” Steve spits out, a tone of disbelief that makes Bucky _preen_ , makes him almost lean into the smack of Steve’s dick on his cheek, the hot slide of it across his lips to the opposite cheek. He sticks his tongue out, knows Steve loves it, and the older man picks up on the bait immediately, brings his cock down the slap it against his tongue, a wet noise mixing with Steve’s soft groan.

” _Daddy_ ,” Bucky begs, a sharp and high noise that Steve immediately responds to by pushing the head of his cock between his lips, resting it there to let Buck suck on it, lav at it, flick his tongue across. He takes what he’s given, watches Steve’s face, the way his tongue comes out to run across his bottom lip, the way his teeth tear at it immediately after, his ocean eyes locked onto Bucky’s mouth. It makes him feel powerful, feel like a hot little thing, to have Daddy panting with just a few suckles.

Steve’s hand glides through his hair, grip a little, tilting Bucky’s head back a little more, and he holds him there as he slowly slides the rest of his cock into Bucky’s mouth, where it belongs. It’s _erotic_ to have Steve holding him stock-still in such a position, to have him watch his own cock disappear into Bucky’s mouth. He’s good, a good boy, can take it all, even sticks his tongue out as Steve continues to slide in. Bucky’s mouth feels so full and his eyelids flutter as he moans, Steve hitting and pushing against the back of his throat.

“ _Yesss_ , that’s nice, honey, look at that,” Steve praises, voice deep and gruff, pulls his hips back and slides back in just as slowly and all Bucky can do is sit there and keep his mouth open wide. He loves it, feels a little sweet, swallows around the thick cock, feels spit slip out the corner of his lips when Steve pulls out and slides back in again. Bucky whimpers, gets caught up in being used in such a fashion, Steve’s facial expressions and noises making Bucky feel like he’s doing a good job.

He’s gasping by the time Steve’s pulls back but does not have but a few seconds to regain a few ragged breaths before there’s a wide palm cupping the back of his head, guiding him lower to Steve’s balls. Bucky moans, _loves_ sucking on Steve’s balls, showing them the attention they deserve, makes it messy but at this point it was unavoidable. Steve is pushy, holds his head in tight, groans from deep within his chest as Bucky sucks at one ball, runs his tongue around it, _slurps_ , moves to the other, shakes his head some. Bucky growls, doubles his efforts when he sees that Steve is jacking himself off, hand slow but purposeful, Bucky _loud_ , both in his own noises and the wet noises that come with sucking on Daddy’s balls.

With a shout of a grunt Steve is pushing Bucky back but before his ass can hit the floor in a _thunk_ Steve has him under his armpits again, guiding him back to the couch, turning him to face it in a frantic shove. Bucky doesn’t even flinch, knows Steve has him, won’t let him fall face first into the couch, Steve cradling his head as he lets Bucky’s cheek come to rest on the back of the couch. Bucky’s breathing heavily, know his chin is wet and messy, can still taste Steve on his tongue, it making him whine. The older man is there to shush him, push and smack his legs apart, forcing Bucky to spread his thighs and adjust. It’s a difficult task with his arms behind his back and a fuzzy mind but he does it, Steve giving his ass one and then two solid _smacks_ when he gets Bucky right where he wants him.

“ _Yeah,_ knew you’d be just what Daddy needed, look at you, baby,” Steve says in a low approving voice, kneading and squeezing at Bucky’s ass with both large hands from behind. It makes the younger man keen, mewl half into the cushion, pleased but a little humiliated at the treatment, even more humiliated when Steve grabs at his bound wrists, pulls them back and down. “Spread yourself, sugar, come on show Daddy your greedy hot little hole.”

_Fucking hell._

Bucky’s face goes up in flames, but his hands move to spread his ass cheeks as best he can, even goes as far as to arch his back, tilt his bottom up. He lets out a small noise, a whimper of a thing, _knowing_ Steve is looking at his hole, at his cunt, can hear his heavy breathing, feel a finger trail down his crack. He needs _something_ , needs words of affirmation or Steve’s cock—something.

That something ends up being Steve’s tongue.

It isn’t at all what he expects and it immediately has him letting out a moan, high and feminine, his own fingers digging into the skin of his ass.

“ _D-Daddy!”_ he damn near shrieks when Steve’s tongue runs around his rim and the down his taint to lick at his tight balls, not staying in one place for too long. Bucky can’t even keep up, head spinning with the contact: feeling Steve’s bearded jaw rub against the sensitive skin between his thighs and ass, feeling his tongue and lips suck and swirl around his little hole, hearing his possessive rumbles and filthy wet noises.

It’s brief, Steve has spent _much longer_ eating Bucky out, but that isn’t the point today. The point of today is for Bucky to be something for Steve to fuck into, to be a tight little hole to get off in. The point of today is to help Steve release and forget everything that went wrong today and for Bucky to help him do so. It goes right to Bucky’s head, makes him boneless with desire, achy with want. He’d do anything for Steve.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts, just like before Steve brought his mouth down to his cunt, that he barely notices Steve pausing and rustling around behind him until there is a sticky fat finger pressing against his opening.

“Just so fuckin’ good for me, Bucky, _so good for Daddy_. I love you, baby. Tell Daddy you love him,” Steve demands, words sweet but voice laced with authority and Bucky whines harshly, wiggles against the press of Steve’s finger and groans out, “Love you, Daddy.” He only planned on saying it once, that being what Steve requested, but when the older man presses in and _keeps going_ , Bucky finds himself chanting it like an omen, again and again, sounding _wrecked_. When Steve presses in as far as he can go, the chanting quiets to a mumble, gritted between teeth when the digit slides in and out a few times. Bucky is greedy.

“ _Another,_ please I can take it, Daddy,” Bucky begs but Steve pinches his ass roughly, responds with, “Don’t think I don’t know what you can take, sugar, this isn’t about you. Hush.”

_Oh._

That one finger of Steve’s pumps in and out of his cunt a few good times before the older man is sliding a second finger in alongside it, knocking the wind right fucking out of Bucky’s chest. They have had sex and fucked and made love more times than Bucky can count but each and every fucking time it feels like the first time. Not in the sense of how things feel physically (although Bucky swears it feels like Steve is fucking him for the very first time) but more in the sense of how things feel _inside_. Every time it feels like he’s complete because of Steve, that he isn’t whole without him. It’s maddening.

A third finger follows not long after the second and it turns Bucky into a _mess_ , makes him want to beg for another finger and a fist but he wants nothing more than Steve’s cock, he needs it, needs it like he needs air. He might die. Steve knows, he always knows, knows everything, angles his fingers down a tad and _there_ , “ _Oh fuck_ ,” Bucky can’t spread his legs enough, arch his back, cry out. Once he finds that sweet spot Steve strokes it and presses against it, thrusts his fingers in and out of his lubed-up channel and _it’s everything_.

But then Steve’s other hand comes up to grip the back of Bucky’s neck, pressing him into the couch, and his lips are at his ear—

“ _This is what I wanted. This is what I thought about all day. My sweet boy naked and gagging for it, almost floating from a cock in his throat and a few fingers in his cunt, ready for Daddy to fuck him. You’re everything Daddy wants, Buck_. _Always. Say it.”_

Bucky _sobs_ , sobs through his words, through Steve finger-fucking his ass, holding him tight against the couch by the neck. He can feel drool on his cheek, thinks he says what Steve wants him to, knows his eyes are open but isn’t entirely sure. To say Steve’s words are gutting is an understatement; they rip and tear at Bucky’s _soul_. He doesn’t know what he did without Steve, doesn’t know what he would do without him now, doesn’t even want to think about it. Steve is the sun, Steve is the moon, Steve is light. Steve is sanctuary. Steve is Daddy.

Bucky might actually be crying, unable to tell what the wetness on his face truly is, but Daddy is there to coo in his ear, to say his name and bring him back some, to tell him he loves Bucky. The hand on the back of his neck curls around to cup his jaw, to tilt his head up some. He feels Steve’s hand on one cheek of his ass, spreading him, feels the fat head of his cock press in, makes him squeal softly and then—

“ _Fuck,_ there it is, baby, that’s good, so fuckin’ good.”

It feels like Steve is splitting him wide open, right down onto his fat cock, feels like his forearm even with prep. His fingers curl in on themselves in the desire to grab at the couch or behind at Steve, moans when he feels the strength of the bind of the tie, moans louder when his fingertips dig into Steve’s dress shirt waistband of his slacks. He had completely forgotten that Steve was still dressed in his work clothes. What a picture they must make.

“ _Breathe_ , sugar, come on, let Daddy in,” Steve whispers into the top of his head, presses his hips onward, groans softly as Bucky lets out his own soft and high noise. When Steve bottoms out he rolls his clothed hips once, twice, three times and then he’s pulling back and fucking back in slowly. It makes Bucky _groan_ , makes him want to roll his head and show his neck if it weren’t for Steve’s grip on his chin, makes him clench down hard on Daddy’s cock.

“Yeah, there he is, there you go, baby _just take it._ Just let Daddy use you,” Steve moans in appreciation, kisses at the side of Bucky’s face. His hand leaves his jaw, guiding Bucky’s head to rest on the back of the couch, the same hand sliding and rolling down his back, his hips rolling in such a purposeful and gutting manner. Bucky scoffs in his head at every time Steve has said he can’t dance; if this bitch can roll his hips like this he can sure as shit dance.

It’s only slow for maybe another minute, Bucky letting out small noises, moans, in appreciation, swears he can feel every fucking ridge and vein of Steve’s cock at this pace, makes him drool a little more. After that minute though, Steve picks up his pace, focusing more on thrusting than on rolling, gets his feet under him a certain way that has him fucking up into Bucky and _oh that’s nice_.

“ _Daddy_ ,” Bucky whines, turns his head forward to better accommodate the way his body is bouncing with the force of Steve’s thrusts. Steve groans throatily, smacks the cheek of Bucky’s ass, grinds in tight on the next thrust, Steve’s dress pants digging into the sensitive skin of Bucky’s bottom, makes him whimper. He lays there and takes it, his eyes rolling back into his head, but then Steve’s hands are on his shoulders, grip tight, pulling on Bucky’s body, back into his own forward movements. Steve’s pace only increases slightly but it feels _immense_ , feels like he’s being fucked in double-time, feels chaotic, makes him shout, makes him hear the wet slick noises of Steve fucking into him even more.

“Aww, _fuck_ , Bucky baby such a sweet little cunt, _fuckin’ hell_ ,” Steve grits out as he moves with vigor, both hands sliding in towards Bucky’s neck, and _that’s_ something, that makes Bucky cry out, makes him nod his head frantically and whimper, “ _Please please please. Daddy.”_ Steve rumbles, dark and appreciative, strokes his thumbs along the back of his neck when they meet at the juncture together. Bucky thinks Steve will give in, will wrap his hands around the column of Bucky’s throat, but he should have known better, should have known he would make Bucky work for it, keep him on his toes.

“So easy, baby, look at you,” Steve comments off-handedly, somehow not out of breath even with the way he’s pounding into Bucky from behind. Even his brutal pace has Bucky panting, has his mouth hanging open, has every breath sounding like a whine or whimper. Bucky wants nothing more in that moment than to feel Steve’s hands around his neck, wants to feel Steve control such a vital piece of his being, wants to be gasping for it. He’s so overwhelmed, face still wet, a noisy boy, when Steve changes course, pulls his torso up and off the couch, back into a broad wall of muscle and comfort.

_Oh fuck._

He hadn’t even noticed Steve leaning down on the couch cushion between his spread thighs, his hands moving, one down to grip his hip, the other arm—

“ _Oh, Daddy oh,_ ” Bucky gets out in time for his throat to be pressed into the crook of Steve’s elbow, arm coming to wrap around the front of Bucky’s throat. It’s _intense_ , to be so very naked and vulnerable and pressed up against the line of Steve’s clothed body, completely on display, being utterly taken and used. This new position is a strain, but nothing could stop him from giving Daddy what he wants, Steve’s arm and grip helping ease the ache of the bend in his spine. This position puts Steve’s mouth right at Bucky’s ear, adding to the overwhelmingness.

“This what you wanted, sugar? You want Daddy in control of something else of yours? Huh?” Steve sounds almost as affected as Bucky, voice tight and heavy, hips sloppy and stuttering at this point. Bucky can still breathe but it’s _difficult_ , makes him gasp and every inhale, makes him sputter, he’s sure his face is red. All Bucky can do is shout, cry, tremble around Steve’s grip and Steve’s cock, completely at Daddy’s mercy.

With one particularly harsh thrust Steve _slams_ into Bucky’s prostate and _oh_ if he wasn’t crying before he surely is now. His wrists tear at the tie, he _sobs_ as best he can, gasps and shouts, tilts his head back, his neck, as best as he can with Steve’s arm containing him.

“ _Oh,_ that’s it, sugar there it is, there it is, baby,” Steve whispers gruffly into his cheek, holds him steady and tight against his body with the onslaught, his other arm coming to wrap around his stomach, completely and entirely owned. Steve hits his swollen sweet spot on every other thrust, angle making his ass feel _tight_ , makes Steve’s cock feel even heavier and harder in his cunt, makes his own forgotten cock _throb_ , feel like it’s about to burst. When he feels a heavy ache in his balls, in his core, Bucky knows it’s coming, knows he’s about to come, blow his load all over the couch.

“ _Daddy,_ Steve I’m—”

“I know, honey, hold on, let Daddy get there, let him fill you up.”

Bucky whines, cries, clenches down _hard_ on Steve’s cock, knows that he can’t come until Daddy does, that being his entire purpose in this moment. Normally he’d have his hands to use, to stroke and pull Steve close, but with his wrists tied back, that isn’t an option. He uses the only thing he has.

”Daddy, _Daddy_ love you, love you, Daddy. Fuck me so good, fuck this cunt so good, like no one ever will. Want you to fill it up, wanna be dripping—”

“Oh, _Jesus fuck,_ Bucky.”

“Want every drop, want you to fuck it into my sloppy little cunt, want you to fuck it in deep so I can push it out for you later, want—”

“ _Fuck!_ Babyy, oh god I’m—” Steve is frantic, thrusts messy, arms around his stomach moving down to wrap a hand around Bucky’s cock. He shouts, keens, arguably screams, only hears Steve moan, “Come on, Buck come with Daddy. Give it to me, it’s mine.”

It’s Daddy’s.

It’s simple but it’s _everything_. Bucky’s thighs shake, his eyes roll back as his noises get caught in his throat, grow garbled but are still loud. His orgasm _tears_ through his body, his soul, moves through him in waves, milks Daddy’s cock for all he’s worth. Steve’s hand is relentless, strokes and grips tight, jacks the head of his cock quickly, makes Bucky squeal, writhe in Steve’s arms even more. All the while Steve is groaning, _groaning_ , deep into the skin of Bucky’s neck, his temple, his ear. Sweet dirty words fall from his mouth, delirious, his own hips moving slow but trembling with self-restraint.

It’s everything.

Steve’s kissing the side of his face sweetly when Bucky comes back to himself, sleepy and achy all over, humming and turning his head into Steve’s kisses. Steve sighs contentedly, runs his hands all over Bucky’s warm body from behind, squeezing him, touching him. His wrists are still tied up but Bucky thinks that’s okay for now, kind of wants them to stay that way for a little while longer.

“Love you so much, Bucky,” Steve whispers in his ear, kissing right below it. Bucky hums again.

“Love you too, Daddy…”

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think! Tell me your requests!! I love hearing from you for anything! Come talk to me on Tumblr! "howdoyousleep3"!


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